‘When will you know?’ His dark eyes catch the sharp winter sunlight.
‘I don’t know that either. There’s no plan, Vince. No schedule. I’m just here at the moment, and you’re down in Shugbury, and I’m glad you came here. Really, I am. Because now I know you care—’
‘Of course I care! Fucking hell, Kate. Did you think I didn’t? You’re amazing, you know? You can doanything.I love you so much—’
‘And these two days are the best we’ve had together since...’ I break off, glancing round at the station kiosk where the bookshop used to be. ‘Since I don’t know when.’ My voice cracks and I stop as he puts his arms around me again.
I rest my head against his chest. His heart is thumping and I know his eyes are wet. I know this man inside out: every pore, every cell of him.
We pull apart at the sound of a soft metallic rumble, growing louder now. ‘Here’s your train,’ I murmur.
He pushes back his hair and seems to gather himself and smiles a big, confident Vince Weaver smile. ‘Thanks for having me,’ he jokes.
I muster a smile. ‘You’re very welcome.’
There’s a kiss on my hot cheek as the train comes to a halt. Then quickly – because it’s easier this way – he climbs aboard and looks back, waving briefly. ‘Bye, Kate.’
‘Bye, Vince. Safe journey.’ I smile and wave, then walk away quickly, before he sees the tears spilling down my face.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Vince
Considering the way things turned out, it’s weird that Vince feels better about things with Kate. But he does. At least they spent time together, and she seemed relaxed and happy to see him. Okay, notdeliriouslyhappy every single minute – but not sick to the teeth either. Which had to be a good sign, hadn’t it?
Since he’s been back home, he’s had a few gigs. They’ve boosted his morale and helped to get him back on track. And he’s gone down well, and the reviews have been decent and Gail has stopped foisting chickpea moussaka on him. Once he even had half a roast chicken sheathed in foil from Radish Sue – as if he’s been sick or incapable or both. He might be alone now but he doesnotneed meals on wheels.
Also, happily, he has only glimpsed Lenny Kemp from a distance and he didn’t charge towards him with a knife. He hasn’t seen Agata at all. She might have told Deborah about Flatpack Day – or maybe she’s kept it to herself? He hopes it’s the latter but anyway, what they talk about is out of his control.
Gradually, Vince has started to relax and venture out and about in the neighbourhood again. Kate hasn’t come back – that’s what he’s still holding out for – but he finally managed to crank out the last chapter of his book, and has sent it off to Zoe. She hasn’t come back to him yet, to announce that she loves it or to tell him it’s crap. She’s probably busy, he’s reassured himself.
Best of all, Edie will soon be by flying home from the States for the festive break.
Vince hasn’t mooted the Christmas situation with Kate yet. However, he’s thinking that the presence of Edie will certainly coax her down south, even just for a visit. Surely she’ll want to see her mum and her brother and nieces too? He certainly hopes so. But, as he’s learnt recently, merely hoping isn’t always enough.
Vince needs to think of some other way to persuade Kate to come home for good. The spa thing didn’t work, obviously. What else can he give his wife? He remembers her lukewarm response to the handwash last Christmas, and Edie pulling him aside later with a wild-eyed look: ‘Dad!Handwash? What were you thinking?’
He hadn’t understood what was so bad about it. Was this the lot of the modern man, he’d wondered?I don’t know what I did wrong, your honour.
‘It was expensive,’ he said defensively.
‘It could’ve cost two hundred pounds and it’s still handwash, Dad. It’s basically soap—’
‘Yes, in liquid form, made from the finest ingredients—’
‘I wouldn’t have given that as an end-of-year teacher present.’
Vince had had no involvement in teacher presents. That had been Kate’s area too.
So, obviously, that level of gift simply won’t do. He could call Harry for advice, but news has just come out about his oldest friend being offered a show with the BBC.The Harry Bonomo Showno less. Why hadn’t he told him about it? Once upon a time they’d shared everything: hopes, dreams, a dented frying pan and an E.-coli-harbouring fridge.
Vince is out shopping in the old town one afternoon when he happens to glance in the estate agent’s window. Shugbury is a popular town for young families and retirees. The schools are great and it’s safe, with a community atmosphere.But we’re in neither of those demographics,he reflects, scanning photos of picturesque cottages and grander detached homes.Our girl is all grown up, but retirement’s a long way off; Kate is only forty-nine.He thinks about her fiftieth birthday coming up in March. Who will she spend it with? Fergus and her other ‘friends’ up there? Was she being truthful when she said he was just a friend? Maybe things have developed in the interim, now Vince is out of the way.
He remembers Mehmet from next door, going on recently that the events company he works for is faltering, and that they’re on ‘special measures’. That’s what Vince needs: ‘special measures’ in order to rescue his marriage.
He stands there checking out more photos and house prices in the estate agent’s window. And that’s when it hits him, square between the eyes – the thing he must give her.
He’s so thrilled by this that he wants to run home and put his plan into action right this minute. At long last, Vince Weaver has had a cracking idea – and it’s bound to win Kate back.
